Flenceburg Academy Blues
by Corvus
Summary: Kyle is an apprentice student at the Flenceburg Academy for the Arcane Arts. In this short peek into his life we get a hint of the trials of a young sorceror...


FLENCEBURG ACADEMY BLUES  
by Corvus  
  
"Explain the difference between a spell and a ritual. Compare and contrast the forms." The words glared a challenge up at Kyle from the parchment that lay on his desk, waiting for him to pick up the thrown gauntlet. The silence of the sunlit room was broken only by the soft scratching of quills against parchment and the occasional creaks as students shifted in their wooden chairs. Someone coughed into his fist, muffling the sudden explosion.  
  
(Why must it always be essay questions?) the young man groaned inwardly. He brushed a stray strand of his unruly chestnut hair away from his face and suppressed a nervous urge to clean the small, round lenses of his glasses. He couldn't put this off. (Hasn't this woman ever heard of "multiple choice"?) Gritting his teeth, he gathered his thoughts, dipped his quill and set to work.  
  
"Spells and rituals," he wrote in his tiny, angular script, "are two variations of the same process: shaping arcane energies through word, gesture and will. Spells are generally considered to be 'quick' magics generating immediate, temporary effects, whereas rituals are involved processes which summon greater forces to accomplish longer-lasting, often permanent, changes."  
  
Kyle paused, holding his quill over his inkwell. That was the general difference between the two, yes, but Arlata, the teacher, would never stand for such a brusque answer. There were further differences between the two that he would have to explain in order to satisfy her ruthless attention to detail.  
  
"Both spells and rituals can be recorded for exchange between workers of magic. However, spells may also be imprinted upon the energies of a particular magic-worker by the process of Attunement, where rituals may not. By Attuning to a spell the magic-worker may call forth energy through the spell's form with only the barest minimum of effort."  
  
Better... but still not entirely complete. What else was there? His round face contorted in his concentration, brow furrowing and eyes squinting. Again he read over the question and his answer so far, and then again. If he hadn't needed glasses before coming to the Flenceburg Academy for the Arcane Arts, he definitely would have needed them after.  
  
"Most spells are applicable as combat magics because of Attunement, and are given simple names. Examples of these magics include Fire Lance, Dampen Magic and Heal. Rituals are never applicable as combat magics because of their time-consuming and elaborate nature; such magics include divinations, astral separation and necromantic processes."  
  
There, that was it. No... There was one more thing, and Kyle felt like kicking himself for not remembering it earlier. Though he had never experienced the grand power and majesty himself, it was something every student at the Academy learned.  
  
"The final difference between spells and rituals is Great Magic. A Great Magic is an enhanced version of an Attuned spell, amplified through a certain rare focus. Non-Attuned spells cannot be cast as Great Magics, nor can rituals."  
  
A smile wrinkled the corner of Kyle's lips as he set down his quill. (There. If the old bat's not happy with that, she'll never be happy with anything.) He quickly dusted the sheet to dry the ink of his reply and moved onto the next sheet of parchment, with the next question.  
  
"Describe the events of the Great Betrayal of Saint Lorenta."  
  
He had to bite his lip not to groan aloud. Why were they still rehashing that old nonsense? Okay, so years ago a crazy necromancer had killed the Academy's best teacher in an involved and twisted plot. Big deal. Lorenta had appeared following the horrible cataclysm of Ragnarok, proclaiming herself a patron goddess of magic in service to the All-Mother who had taken Lord Odin's throne. So what? Magic would still work without her. But there was no avoiding the question, especially if he wanted to graduate out of Arlata's class. So he picked up his quill weapon and bravely ventured forth to do battle once more.  
  
------------------------------  
  
Kyle lay on his back and watched the lazy turns of a Jayle's hawk soaring high above the warm green lawn. The beautiful brown and gray raptors were exceedingly rare this far south, but in the north, where they were much more common, the people believed they were the eyes of Jayle, patroness of female warriors, another of the "new gods". He didn't believe a word of it.  
  
He closed his eyes and let the sun's warmth seep into him, slowly loosening the knots Arlata's test had tied into his muscles. Around him flowed the chatter and laughter of students going to and fro across the lawn about their various errands. Every so often he heard a voice he recognized, but they never said anything to him. Kyle had few friends, and he didn't much care; he didn't go out of his way. Those friends he did have had happened pretty much by accident.  
  
Something got between him and the sun. He cracked an eye, irritated, and scowled up at the pretty face of Misty, one of those accidental friends. Misty had been named by her father in "honor" of Mystina, another figure from the Academy's past that had been apotheosized in the Divine War, in this hopes that he would be able to foist her off on the Academy and earn the prestige her enrollment would bring. Unfortunately, it worked. "You're blocking my light," he grumbled unhappily.  
  
"Oh please," the redhead quipped, putting one hand on a hip, "it's not like I'm standing in front of your only candle. Give me a break." From all the stories Kyle had heard, Misty had picked up her namesake's attitude problems as well. Maybe there was something to be said for the practice of naming children after others, after all.  
  
"Hmph." Kyle opened his other dark brown eye and sat up, stretching. "Can you believe Arlata's test? She must be trying to kill us."  
  
"That old hag? She's just angry about losing her youth and beauty." Misty flipped her hair with an expansive gesture and sank to the grass at Kyle's side. "I just have to wonder what her obsession with Lorenta and Lezard Valeth is."  
  
Kyle shrugged and said nothing as he watched a gaggle of girls pass, their heads bent together and their lips whispering rumors and pointless social nothings. "I don't care what her obsession is, I just wish she'd quit bothering us with it."  
  
Misty rolled her icy blue eyes. "Fat chance. But we won't have to worry about her after this anyway. Say, did you get everything down for the question about spells and rituals? You know how she is about 'completeness', dragging in a hundred useless facts barely related to the subject at hand."  
  
"Yeah. I started with the similarity, then contrasted complexity, range of effect, Attunement, general use and Great Magic. If she wants anything else somebody should tell the Board, because that's pushing it."  
  
Misty looked at him sharply. "When you mentioned Attunement you *did* remember the Energy Limit, *right*?"  
  
"...uh-oh." How could he have forgotten that? It was one of the first facts Arlata had mentioned when she'd covered Attunement in class. No sorceror could Attune more than ten spells at once because of the affect on astral harmonics. "I, uh... didn't put that in."  
  
"She's gonna hang you for it." Misty sniffed and "tsked" at him. "It has nothing to do with the difference between spells and rituals, but you brought up Attunement in your answer, so she'll want the Limit in there too. Oh well, too late to do anything about it now." She flopped back to lie upon the grass as Kyle had been a few moments ago, leaving him to stare at her with his mouth gaping. Her sympathy was so touching.  
  
"Well, it's just one part of one question. How much could it hurt?" Kyle asked, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Arlata was a harsh mistress, demanding and unyielding. Still, he knew he'd been as complete as possible with all the other questions. There was no way that one oversight could fail him... could it?  
  
Misty shrugged noncommitally. "Worrying about it won't help, Kyle. Might as well just put it aside."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Besides," the redhead continued, "we've got another test coming up, and worrying about the old hag's test won't help you."  
  
Kyle looked up again. The Jayle's hawk had flown on, leaving the cerulean vault devoid of all but the sun. "I'd bet Barto doesn't care about the Limit." Barto was the wiry old man who taught their Ritual Construction and Performance class, and he was as personable as Arlata was hard. Barto eschewed spells in favor of rituals as much as he could, relying only on Heal to fix things up after an accident. His passion for the elaborate trappings and workings of rituals was infectious, mostly because his spry, friendly manner made the laborious steps seem much less of a chore. Kyle couldn't say goodbye to Arlata fast enough, but he would be very sorry indeed to leave Barto's class.  
  
"No," Misty said with a laugh, "he probably doesn't." She smiled, and Kyle once again found himself wishing, against his will, that the Academy allowed him more free time. In just another year he and Misty would graduate from the apprentice classes, but the time they gained out of class would be poured into research and practice.  
  
In short, he'd never be able to ask her for a date. 


End file.
